Home Alone
by Random Ruth
Summary: Soon after Sarah Jane waves the kids off to school, she hears a single knock on her door. She finds an injured Doctor on her doorstep, but all is not what it seems. One-shot.


**Home Alone**

Sarah Jane gave Sky a little hug as they stood in the doorway. The schoolbag hung over her shoulder indicated that she was going to school. Rani and Clyde had already gathered next to the hedge at the end of the drive, wearing the same uniform as Sky (although Clyde wasn't wearing a skirt, he'd feel obliged to point out).

Mother and adopted daughter parted, Sarah Jane smiling down at Sky proudly. She had a hand on Sky's shoulder that was used to gently push her off.

"Have a good day, Sky," said Sarah Jane, waving, as Sky joined the waiting Clyde and Rani. "And you two as well," she added.

Rani chuckled. "Oh we will, I'm sure. Lots of maths. Woo," she said sarcastically before waving back.

"See ya, Sarah Jane," Clyde added.

He led the group off along the footpath, all three soon disappearing from view behind the hedge. It wasn't too far to walk, and they'd probably be at the school gates in fifteen minutes.

Sarah Jane lingered at the door, just watching the empty space once occupied by them. Eventually though, she had to turn around, closing the door behind her. An empty house. It really shouldn't bother her this much – she'd sent Luke to school daily and coped. She'd even spent all of those years since the Doctor had left her in Aberdeen just passing the time until he came back. But now she'd become accustomed to being with someone, and it really was such a large house that it felt wrong now to have someone there with her.

She went into the kitchen to make herself a mug of tea. She sat at the table with her steaming mug, flicking through the newspaper for anything suspicious that could be investigated. She took a sip. Skimmed over one of her own articles which took up a whole page. Took another sip. There was a tiny column about 'strange goings-on', but she recognised what was being described and it had already been dealt with. Her mug now half-empty and safe to travel with, she closed the newspaper. She walked up the stairs and into the attic.

The room was getting cluttered, she noted as she walked down the trio of wooden steps to talk directly to Mr Smith. She set her mug down on a table, pushing a few papers aside to make room.

"Mr Smith, I need you," she said.

On command and with his usual fanfare, Mr Smith unfolded from the wall. Puffs of steam came from joints, the hiss and whirr of pistons filled the air. His keyboard with various knobs and levers and flashing lights slid out, and the large screen switched on. The pink and purple graphic moved around and around on the black background like a falling rain drop.

"Hello, Sarah Jane," he said.

Sometimes, that prolonged fanfare would be incredibly annoying. Today, Sarah Jane found she didn't really mind.

"Any problems this morning?" Sarah Jane asked, getting down to business.

"Scanning," Mr Smith replied. He paused as he checked the area for alien technology of any sort. "There are no abnormalities to report, Sarah Jane."

"Good," she said, nodding. "Good."

She picked up her mug again and took another sip.

"You will let me know immediately if there are any problems, won't you?" she asked.

"Of course, Sarah Jane."

There was a knock on the front door. It was just a single rap, so it could have just been a bird misjudging its flight. If it was a person, surely they would have knocked again?

"Is there someone at the door?" she said.

"It appears so, Sarah Jane. There is an unknown life form outside," Mr Smith replied.

She gave the super computer a puzzled look. "What to you mean, 'unknown'?"

"Their genetic scan does not match any of my data entries." He paused. "It would be advisable to be careful when approaching the door."

She patted her pocket, ensuring that her sonic lipstick was within reach. It was as close to an actual weapon that she would ever go. She set her mug down and cautiously made her way downstairs. The distorted glass in the door gave nothing away; no silhouette – human or otherwise – could be seen. She pulled the sonic lipstick out of her pocket, holding it behind her back and out of sight just in case.

She opened the door.

There was no one there.

But her experience with Sky had taught her to always look down, and so she did.

A man in a blue pinstripe suit and long brown coat, with long limbs and spiky brown hair, battered and bloody was lying unconscious on her doorstep. He was instantly recognisable.

The Doctor.

Granted, it was a younger version of him than the one that she had last seen, but she dismissed the fact as he was a time traveller. But why had Mr Smith not recognised him? She crouched down on her knees beside him, checking for a pulse. A beat of four was under her finger. She sighed in relief. He was alive.

Sarah Jane took a moment to catalogue his injuries. There was a rather nasty gash on his forehead which was bleeding badly. His hand was also cut and his coat had small circular scorch marks all over it, like he had been shot by some sort of laser weapon. Shoving her lipstick back into her pocket, she tried to lift him and bring him inside. He was far heavier than he looked.

"You alright there?"

The voice made Sarah Jane jump. She stood and faced the postman. He was a generously proportioned man with a kind heart. He was carrying a handful of letters addressed to her, and she took them from him quickly. She really hadn't wanted anyone to see the Doctor, but now that he was here, he could be of some help.

The postman spotted the Doctor's prone form on the doorstep, frowning in concern. He pointed. "Is he alright?"

"He'll be fine if I can get him inside. Can you give me a hand?" Sarah Jane asked.

"Certainly," said the postman, rolling up the sleeves of his uniform keenly. Sarah Jane held the door open while he lifted the Doctor carefully and carried him inside, bridal style.

She pointed out the living room. "If you just leave him on the sofa that would be lovely."

The postman did as he was asked. With the Doctor on the sofa, a far more comfortable place to be unconscious, he came over to Sarah Jane. "Would you like me to call an ambulance?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I'll look after him," she assured. "I've got nothing better to do."

The postman didn't look convinced. "But his head—"

"Will be fine so long as I can look after him," she said, cutting him short. She ushered him out the door. "Thank you for your help."

She closed the door behind him, giving the postman no other choice but to continue on his rounds. She watched through the distorted glass as he made his way back to his bicycle and cycled off. Once he was out of sight, she hurried into the living room.

Sarah Jane grabbed a cushion from one of the armchairs and placed it under the Doctor's head for comfort's sake. She counted the number of cuts that would need cleaning and bandaging and it went well into double figures. Whatever had happened to him to get into this state?

She had to congratulate him on his choice of nurse, at least. Having so many children around her had reignited her motherly instinct, and with that came the protective streak. Even if she wasn't looking after a child in this case, more of a centuries-old alien. The principal was the same.

The alarming number of injuries running through her head, she ran off to find her first-aid kit. If she could remember where it was. It moved around an awful lot, since her and the children did tend to get into all sorts of scrapes. The first-aid kit on this occasion turned out to be in the kitchen at the other side of the house. She sought out the green, lunchbox-like case and started to hurry back to her injured friend.

That's when she heard it, a familiar warbling sound.

And it was coming from upstairs.

But the Doctor was currently lying on her sofa, not upstairs. So why could she hear the sonic screwdriver?

She picked up her pace and arrived in the living room to find it devoid of Time Lords. Puzzled and a little alarmed, she threw the first-aid kit down on the nearest armchair and ran upstairs as quickly as she could.

The noise from upstairs had increased. Banging and crashing had been added to the warbling, but now the warbling was coming in short, desperate bursts. What was troubling her most of all, however, was the sound of _two_ sets of feet clattering onto the wooden floorboards.

She pressed her ear to the door just as a voice cried out, "I really don't look so handsome from this angle!"

There was more crashing and Sarah Jane's curiosity finally led her to open the door to her attic.

The scene that greeted her was certainly not what she was expecting. She could have never even considered it, not in a billion years.

The Doctor was conscious, stony faced, and standing with his foot resting on someone else's chest. That someone else was pointing a green-tipped sonic screwdriver threateningly at the Doctor. The only problem was that the someone on the floor also happened to be the Doctor.

Sarah Jane shifted her shocked gaze from Doctor to Doctor, one wearing a bow tie and the other a pinstripe suit. All she could manage was a strangled, "What?"

The Doctor in the bow tie grinned up at her from his position on the floor and removed his grasp from the other Doctor's ankle to wave at her cheerily. "Hello, Sarah!" he said.

The other, suited Doctor didn't move. Sarah Jane still hadn't recovered her voice.

"By the way," the bow tied Doctor added in a stage whisper, pointing to the suited Doctor, "that's not actually me. Well, I suppose it is. To you it looks like that. What it actually is? A very clever phychic cover story, feeding off your memories and using... hold on," he said, pressing a button on his sonic screwdriver.

The end glowed green, warbled, and the suited Doctor clutched his head and stumbled backwards, banging into the table where Sarah Jane had placed her mug of tea. It would have been cold by now, but the mug fell to the ground and smashed, creating a slippery puddle of tea on the floor. The suited Doctor's trainers lost their grip and he went flying, landing flat on his back. He didn't get back up.

"Doctor, what's going on?" Sarah Jane asked harshly, quite annoyed at the loss of a good mug. And also the mess that the scuffle had created. But that had been a nice mug.

The bow tied Doctor got to his feet. "As I was saying before I had to deal with... that," he said, waving his hand in the direction of his suited self. Or not, as it may seem. "It's feeding off your memories of me and being really rubbish about because, look, it picked the wrong me. Silly thing." He looked at her. "It's called a Coonmyn, intergalactic thieves. Very clever – not as clever as me, obviously."

"And it wants to steal my collection of alien things?" asked Sarah Jane, now entering the attic properly. The place was a mess – papers, gadgets and all kinds of alien trinkets littered the floor.

"Oh, no," the Doctor replied. "It wants to steal your lovely Xylok here."

"Mr Smith? Whatever for?"

"To sell him off again to the highest bidder," he said, slightly sadly. Sarah Jane was about to ask another question, but before she could, the suited Doctor – Coonmyn, even – got to its feet again. He snarled viciously at the real Doctor, contorting the features in a way that didn't suit its face one bit.

The real Doctor braced himself.

The Coonmyn lunged.

But it didn't hit the Doctor like he had expected, but instead went for Sarah Jane. She shrieked and ducked, the Coonmyn flying over her head and missing its target. But only just. Somehow, it managed to grab her jacket in its long, stolen fingers as it flew past.

The momentum in the Coonmyn's pounce meant it couldn't stop in time for the stairs.

It was going to fall. And it was going to take Sarah Jane with it.

The Doctor grabbed frantically for Sarah Jane. Just in time, he managed to grab a hold of her jeans and hold on for all he was worth. Sarah Jane's sudden stop loosened the Coonmyn's grip and it kept falling, tumbling down the stairs and hitting every step on the way down. It landed in a heap of purple blood and coat, rolling to a stop only when it hit the bottom of the front door.

The Doctor waited until it stopped before helping Sarah Jane to her feet. She didn't waste time with checking herself for injuries, instead looking down at the alien against her front door.

"Is it... is it dead?" she asked.

"I shouldn't think so," replied the Doctor. "They're annoyingly hardy things. But that should stop it for a while so I can do stuff."

"What stuff?"

He tapped her on the nose and smiled. "Saving Sarah Jane stuff."

He ran into the attic again and Sarah Jane followed him, just like she always did before. He was halfway down a step before she suddenly grabbed his arm in a death grip and spun him around to face her.

"How do I know you're the real Doctor and not some other fake?" she demanded, vowing never to let go until she got a straight answer.

He looked hurt for a split second. "One," he said. "I am not currently bleeding purple blood onto your lovely carpet. Two, if I was a fake, I would have wrestled you off by now. Three, the TARDIS is a few streets away, nice and hidden. They don't know that, so they couldn't tell you, could they?"

"I suppose not..." She released her grip. He smiled at her fondly.

"That's my Sarah Jane," he beamed.

She shook off the praise. "What are you going to do?"

"Mr Smith here is a bit confuddled thanks to the Coonmyn's teleport signals," the Doctor explained. "That's why he didn't tell you about them. The teleports will have been stolen too. They steal anything from jewels to entire planets and then use them for themselves. They're helped along by their physhic ability. I just need to give Mr Smith a jiggle up and he should be able to teleport them right into the middle of the Shadow Proclamation's headquarters."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked.

"Just keep watch for me-not-me downstairs there. Tell me when it wakes up if you can," he instructed.

He slipped under Mr Smith's main area of switches, lights and levers much like a mechanic slips underneath a broken-down car, sonic screwdriver in his mouth sideways.

Sarah Jane moved over to the door, peering over the top step to check on the Coonmyn. It was still there, showing no signs of getting up any time soon. But she knew from experience now that it was an expert at faking it. "Sill there," she informed the Doctor.

"Excellent!" he called back, but his voice was muffled by Mr Smith's exposed circuits.

"So... it made a copy of you. Why?"

"I told you, it's feeding off your memories. Using your compassion for me against you. Distracting you," the Doctor said.

"Why did it not use one of the children then?" asked Sarah Jane.

"Because it would be too unlikely, I suppose. Could be any reason."

"Because you're always putting yourself at risk, you're more likely to get yourself killed. That's why, isn't it?"

No reply. She'd struck a nerve. "Are you travelling with anyone at the moment?"

"No," was the quiet response.

Before she could interrogate him further, Mr Smith's screen flickered back into life. The graphic was back, moving around and around.

"Ah, Mr Smith," said the Doctor as he climbed to his feet again, all hair and gangly limbs. "Listen, I've given your system a boost. You should be right as rain now. There should be two teleport signals nearby—"

"_Two_?" Sarah Jane asked.

The Doctor turned to her. "They travel in pairs," he told her. "One's probably out there right now, hidden." He turned back to Mr Smith. "I need you to find those two signals and isolate them. Can you do that for me?"

"Of course, Doctor," Mr Smith said. A map of London appeared on screen, replacing the graphic, and two red dots – one over the house and another a few streets away – flashed.

"That's them," the Doctor said. "Mr Smith, I need you to use these coordinates I'm about to give you to send them off." He went to the keyboard and typed in a sequence of numbers and letters which appeared on screen as they were entered. Once he was finished, he stood back. "Off you go."

Sarah Jane peeked over the top of the stairs again, just in time to see a light, sickly yellow in colour, surround the Coonmyn. The light pulsated for a few moments before shrinking and disappearing, taking the Coonmyn with it. She turned back to Mr Smith's screen and saw the two dots disappear too.

"Thank you, Mr Smith," said the Doctor. He whirled around to face Sarah Jane and straightened his bow tie. "Now, any chance of a cup of tea?"

Sarah Jane smiled and shook her head. "I suppose so. Come on."

"Any Jammie Dodgers?" he asked as they went down the stairs.

"I think I might be able to manage it, Doctor," she replied.

She led him to the kitchen and he idly flicked through the newspaper as she made two mugs of tea. She sat down next to him, handing him a steaming mug of his favourite drink and sliding one of his favourite biscuits over to him. They both sat in comfortable silence, each drinking their tea. The Doctor munched on his biscuit.

"The TARDIS is upstairs," the Doctor admitted, breaking the silence. Sarah Jane looked at him. "I don't like to lie to you."

"You didn't want them to know about it, I understand," she said.

He looked really sad, and not just because he'd finished his Jammie Dodger. "No, but that's all I seem to be doing these days. Lying. Rule one: the Doctor lies." He chuckled humourlessly.

"I've got all day, if you want to talk about it," said Sarah Jane.

"I wouldn't want to burden you with my troubles." He went to get up, but Sarah Jane stopped him by holding down his arm.

"That's what friends do, you know. Share burdens."

He hesitated.

"And if it helps," Sarah Jane added with a smile, "I've get more Jammie Dodgers."

Without getting up, she reached over to a cupboard and pulled out a packet. She handed it to him. He let a small smile grace his lips.

"That's better. Now, talk," she said.

It was the middle of the afternoon before the Doctor finished his story, and even later in the afternoon by the time Sarah Jane finished hers. He told her more about the Ponds, Demons Run, the Teselecta and of course, his wife, Doctor River Song. She told him about finding Sky, saving the alien slaves from their cruel master, and how Luke was getting along at University. Both listened to each other talk, because that was what friends did.

And there were no better friends than the Doctor and his Sarah Jane.


End file.
